


waste time with a masterpiece

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Honeymoon, Ibiza, Love, M/M, Porn, Sex on the Beach, Soppiness, drunken dancing, so much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “So where are you taking me, then?” Aaron asks, rooting around in his bag for his passport.Robert’s driving, stretched out and languid even in a car, one hand on his thigh, the other on the steering wheel. “Nobody’s spoiled the surprise this time around?”There’s a wry twist to Robert’s mouth, but Aaron feels momentarily guilty. He’s still gutted they never got to Vegas, but is sure whatever Robert’s got planned will make up for it. “Mum’s not blabbed, you know that."Robert brushes a hand through Aaron’s hair. His eyes flick to the road as the cars inch forward a little, but looks back as soon as they’ve crawled to a stop. “Clue: a holiday destination, you love it, I think it’s tacky.”or 15k of fluff, porn and soppiness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha the fic that literally killed me. i'm half afraid this will be one of those fics that i've built up so much in my mind it inevitably lets me down. OH WELL. 
> 
> such gracious thanks to mer and lorna who both listened to me talk about this for weeks. 
> 
> (it's here,!!!!!!!!!!!!)
> 
> the amount of sex they have in this is physically impossible but roll with it. (they're on a ten day sex ban when they get home)
> 
>  **just to note;** some mentions of aaron's (possible) prison stint because this is me

“So where are you taking me, then?” Aaron asks, rooting around in his bag for his passport. 

Robert’s driving, stretched out and languid even in a car, one hand on his thigh, the other on the steering wheel. “Nobody’s spoiled the surprise this time around?”

There’s a wry twist to Robert’s mouth, but Aaron feels momentarily guilty. He’s still gutted they never got to Vegas, but is sure whatever Robert’s got planned will make up for it. “Mum’s not blabbed, you know that.”

There’s something soft in Robert’s eyes when he nods. “Yeah.” They’re approaching Manchester airport, traffic piling up already and Aaron groans, settles back in the seat. Robert snorts. “Relax. We have plenty of time before the flight.”

Aaron pulls his passport out of the bag and shoves it haphazardly in his back pocket, ignoring Robert’s look. “What? I know where it is.”

“So will every thief in the vicinity.” Robert taps his fingers idly on the steering wheel, frowning out at the traffic. He rolls his eyes at the face Aaron makes, and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle a grin.

When the silence stretches on too long, Aaron reaches over, rests a hand on Robert’s thigh. It still throws him off sometimes, being free and able to touch whenever he wants. He spent months just staring at Robert across a table, inches separating them, but unable to touch him, to tell him everything he wanted to. 

Robert suffered too, Aaron knows. There’s still a pinched look around his eyes, a lingering fear when he touches Aaron, kisses him, like he’s going to be snatched away at any moment.

“So how long’s the flight?” Aaron asks, rubbing his fingers along the seam of Robert’s trousers. 

Robert leans over and kisses him, soft and sure. He’s been doing that a lot too, just because he _can_. “If I tell you, you’ll know. Wait and see.”

Aaron hates surprises, but he hates the look of disappointment Robert gets when something he’s planned, something for _Aaron_ is ruined when it doesn’t need to be. Like their engagement. Vegas. The wedding. Aaron smiles against Robert’s mouth as he pulls him in for another kiss, memories of their wedding day, of Robert drinking out of a welly, them both so _happy_ bouncing around his head. “I’m gonna find out soon anyway.”

“Fine,” Robert says, brushing a hand through Aaron’s hair. His eyes flick to the road as the cars inch forward a little, but looks back as soon as they’ve crawled to a stop. “Clue: a holiday destination, you love it, I think it’s tacky.”

Aaron knows immediately; “Ibiza?”

Robert nods, eyes shining with mirth. “Frank’d be proud.”

It takes Aaron a second to get it, remembers the stupid pub quiz and laughs. “Really? Ibiza? But you hate it.”

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Robert says immediately, like it’s natural. 

Aaron’s chest tightens, overwhelmed for a minute. He knows there aren’t that many places he can go without a criminal background check, but Robert’s selfish in most things; why not this? “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We didn’t get a honeymoon,” Robert says, voice strained. “You - we didn’t get one, and I thought this would be good, yeah? It’s not Vegas, I know, but-”

“It’s great,” Aaron stresses, hates that they’re in the car and he can’t hug Robert like he wants to. He settles for another kiss, long and hard, pouring his gratitude and his love and everything he can’t say into it.

When he pulls back, Robert’s eyes dart over Aaron’s face, his fingers twitching against Aaron’s neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Aaron says immediately. Robert says it so casually now, effortless, and Aaron likes how easy it’s becoming to say it back. Absence, he thinks, really does change things, not always for the worse. “Ibiza, eh?”

“If we ever get out of this traffic,” Robert grouses. 

“Hope you’re not this grumpy on the flight,” Aaron tells him, grinning. 

“I’m an excellent flier.”

 

 

 

Robert is the worst flier. 

“Are you sure you should be doing that right now?” Aaron asks, eyebrows raises as Robert tosses back a miniature bottle of whisky. 

“I’m fine,” Robert lies, hand shaking as he places the bottle next to him on the seat. “It’s perfectly normal to drink before the flight takes off. It’s tradition.”

Aaron’s pretty sure Robert only has that tradition to cope with being afraid of flying, but wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

“You don’t think it’s going to crash, do you?” Robert asks, eying the plane sceptically. Aaron doesn’t know what he’s looking for; it’s an ordinary plane. 

“No, Robert,” Aaron sighs. “I don’t think it’s going to crash.”

Robert slides across the seat, body pressed against Aaron’s. He has his sunglasses pushed up into his hair even though it’s raining in Manchester, and a hoodie bunched around his shoulders - one of Aaron’s. He’s a walking contradiction and Aaron’s never loved someone so much. 

“Planes can crash in seconds,” Robert adds, leaning in close to Aaron. Their gate is crowded, people mostly their age, Aaron notes, probably headed for a boozy holiday. Aaron doesn’t know why Robert’s bothering to keep his voice down, it’s not like anyone cares.

“We’re going to Ibiza,” Aaron points out, sliding an arm around Robert’s shoulders. He’s expecting Robert to tense, or at least pull away, but Robert relaxes into it, not caring that someone could be watching them. “The flight’s an hour, tops.”

“Two,” Robert whines. He’s tapping his foot on the floor, expensive trainers a constant up-and-down motion in the corner or Aaron’s eye. “Besides, it doesn’t take much. Did you know-”

“Robert,” Aaron says, voice firm. “I love you, but I will knock you out if you don’t shut up.”

 

 

It takes ages to get through arrivals. The complaints and muttered curses irritating after the flight, but Aaron lets it all wash over him, just glad to actually be somewhere that isn’t Emmerdale. It’s hot in the airport, too much to have Robert pressed as close as he is, but Aaron can’t bring himself to say anything. He leans back, turns his face into Robert’s neck and grins as Robert’s hand rests on his hip, tugs him closer. 

The line moves at a steady pace, but Aaron merely shuffles forward, kicking his bag across the floor. Robert’s still got his in his hand, more optimistic about their chances of getting through passport control. 

Robert’s fingers slide into Aaron’s back pocket, the one containing his passport, Aaron notes, and Aaron snorts. “Looking for something?”

“Nope,” Robert says, popping the p. He leans in closer, lips brushing Aaron’s ear. “Maybe I just wanted to feel you up.”

Aaron’s cheeks heat, but he can’t help but smile. He squirms, a little too aware of how public they are, but thankfully the lines are tightly packed, and Robert’s hiding him enough that whoever’s looking can only see so much. “Are you going to be like this the entire time?”

“It’s our honeymoon isn’t it?” Robert says, tongue-in-cheek, and hesitates. 

“Alright,” Aaron says, tugging on Robert’s t-shirt until Robert leans in, presses a kiss to Aaron’s lips. He tastes of whisky, and Aaron chases the taste, kisses him until there’s an irritated huff behind them. 

Robert stiffens, but Aaron pulls him forward, sliding his bag along with them. 

“Leave it,” Aaron says. There’s only a handful of people in front of them and he’d like to get out of the airport quickly. 

The irritation slides off of Robert’s face and his lips quirk up into a smile. 

Once they finally make it to the desk, they’re checked through quickly, and collect their bags without incident. Robert makes a detour to the Europcar desk, and Aaron leans against the counter, bags at his feet, while Robert fills out the paperwork. Robert shed his hoodie on the plane, stuffing it into the holdall, but he kept the sunglasses on. They’re shoved up against his hair, and Aaron lets his eyes roam. Robert’s t-shirt shifts over his back as he writes, and his jeans hug his hips low. Aaron rarely sees him so relaxed, and it’s _nice_.

The clerk says something to Robert that Aaron doesn’t catch and disappears. Aaron’s not entirely sure why they need a car when the island’s not exactly huge, but he lets Robert do what he wants. 

Aaron doesn’t like to think about prison, the thought of it shuddering through him, but the effect it had on Robert was almost as profound. When Aaron first saw him after his release, looking pleased to see him, but thin and exhausted, hunched under the weight of his worry and guilt, it had hurt. To see him now, tall and happy, eyes shining, you’d never know anything had happened. That’s exactly how Aaron wants it; neither of them can forget, but they can heal and move on. This holiday, their _honeymoon_ is the perfect way to do it. 

“Hey,” Robert says, nudging him with his elbow. He slides his wallet into his back pocket, and frowns at the look on Aaron’s face. “What?”

“Won’t thieves know where you just put it?”

Robert snorts. “You’re here to make sure it stays there.”

Aaron rolls his eyes and hands Robert his bad. “What do we need a car for anyway?”

“You never know,” Robert says, cryptically. Aaron hates surprises most of the time, but he’s more than willing to wait and see. Robert’s not always the best at determining the small things, but he’s attentive and remembers stuff Aaron mentions in passing months - and even years - before. It makes Aaron’s heart swell, makes him want to kiss Robert silly. 

He settles for a quick kiss to the cheek, and pats Robert’s hip. “So where’s this car then?”

 

 

Robert drives;

They have a convertible, because drawing attention to themselves is Robert’s main aim this holiday. Aaron settles in for the drive, sliding his own sunglasses up as nose as Robert turns onto the E-20. Aaron has no idea where they’re going, what Robert has planned, and instead of being daunting, it’s thrilling. He just wants to spend time with Robert, having him to himself and relearn the things he’s missed. 

“I’m glad you did this,” Aaron says, low, hoping he’s heard over the wind. 

Robert’s mouth quirks up into a smile and he takes his hand off the gearstick to rest it on Aaron’s knee. He doesn’t say anything, keeps his eyes on the road, but Aaron doesn’t need him to. The wind rustles through their hair, Robert’s windswept and ridiculous, and Aaron runs a hand through it. Robert pushes into his fingers, putting his hand back to change gears as they near a roundabout.

They turn off, a sign for Sant Antoni signalling another 13 miles. 

“San Antonio, huh?” Aaron says, surprised. 

Robert shrugs, leans his elbow on the door and gives Aaron a cheeky grin. “Meet your expectations?”

“Didn’t have any,” Aaron admits. He slides lower in the seat, rests his head on his hand. “Not really your scene is it?”

“Aaron,” Robert says, a little more seriously. He throws a quick glance Aaron’s way before concentrating once again on the road. They should probably stop having such intense conversations in cars. “Just because I think it’s tacky, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to enjoy myself.”

Aaron hums noncommittally, grins in response when Robert darts a look at him. 

The rest of the trip passes mostly in silence. Aaron flips the radio on, letting the beat of dance music fill the car. He’s expecting Robert to object, though the amount of pop music Aaron has to listen to more than balances it out, but Robert seems at ease with his choice, and Aaron catches him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. 

 

 

They turn onto a street that’s mostly hotels and souvenir shops, with the occasional restaurant and supermarket thrown in. It’s the beachfront; Aaron can smell it, see it in the people walking down the streets, and behind a Burger King on the junction, can see the ocean stretching out before them. 

The hotel they eventually pull up to looks grand and lush, something that screams Robert. 

“Figures,” Aaron says, not unkindly. “How much is this setting us back?”

Robert startles a little, but _pleased_. “Us?”

Aaron flushes, but shrugs it off as Robert pulls into a parking space in the hotel car park. Aaron waits patiently for Robert to shut down the car and reaches for him, tugs him forward into a kiss. “That’s what we are, innit?”

“Yeah, Aaron,” Robert says, soft and happy. He curls a hand around the back of Aaron’s neck, kisses him languid and hot. “What’s say we check out our room?”

Aaron notices the diversion, but wisely doesn’t say anything as they grab their bags and head into the lobby. The Palladium is a five star hotel, Aaron finds out once they’re inside, but it’s understated. He doesn’t feel like he’s standing in a luxury hotel, just feels easy and happy, especially with Robert unshy about resting a hand on his spine, or leaning in to talk to him, lips brushing his ear. It’s intimate and close and it’s overwhelming, except that Aaron’s missed it, craved it, and feels lucky that he gets it, here where nobody knows them.

“We’ve got the master suite,” Robert tells him, key in hand and ushering Aaron towards the lift. 

“You don’t have to spoil me,” Aaron says, shoving Robert into the elevator, glad when the doors slide shut behind them. 

“It’s our honeymoon,” Robert says, breath ghosting over Aaron’s lips, tugging him in for a bruising make out, warm hands sliding up under Aaron’s t-shirt. “I’m allowed to spoil you.”

Aaron grips the back of Robert’s neck, holds him place as he kisses him, licks into Robert’s mouth and just _wants_. The lift shudders to a stop and Aaron almost wants it to keep going, just so that he can press Robert into the wall, hold him there and just take everything he wants to. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, nipping at Aaron’s bottom lip. “There’s a King size bed waiting for us.”

It’s enough to get Aaron moving; he grabs his bag and suitcase, follows Robert down the hall to 214, apparently the best room in the hotel. When Robert throws open the door, Aaron’s not disappointed by the expense; they have a separate bedroom and lounge area, bathroom with a hot tub, and a jacuzzi. It’s lavish and ridiculous, and Aaron loves the hell out of it. “How much time do you plan on spending here?” 

“Honestly?” Robert slides past Aaron into the bedroom where a giant bed awaits. It’s the same size as their bed at home and looks every bit as comfortable, even if Aaron believes nothing beats your own. Robert dumps his bag on top and turns to face Aaron, face soft again. “I don’t really have a plan here.”

Aaron gives him a look. “You always have a plan. You’re telling me you wanna wing it?”

Robert hesitates, but not because he’s unsure; just that he’s finding it hard to say what he wants to. Aaron’s chest tightens and he jerks forward, slips his arms around Robert’s waist. Robert looks grateful, leans in and presses their foreheads together. “I just wanted to be away from Emmerdale, wanted you to have something where you’re not - I wanted you to be happy.”

“Hey,” Aaron says softly, hand on Robert’s cheek. He brushes his thumb against Robert’s jaw. “I am happy, I promise ya. Here, or there, I’m happy because I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

It’s enough for a smile to break out on Robert’s face, for his eyes to shine with emotion. “I love you.”

Aaron kisses him because he can’t form words, can’t put everything he’s feeling into anything worthy of what Robert’s done, how he’s carried Aaron this entire time. When it was too much, when Aaron thought prison would crush him, when he didn’t think he could ever break the cycle of jealousy and self-hate, there was Robert, standing tall and strong in the face of everything Aaron threw at him. That one blip aside, Robert’s fought and clung on and refused to let Aaron give in to his doubts or fears. Even when he felt like breaking, when Liv confessed over the phone that Robert was losing it, not once did he let Aaron down. 

“You’re amazing,” Aaron breathes, because Robert deserves to hear it, _needs_ to hear it. 

Robert flushes, says, “Yeah, I know,” flippant and sure, but Aaron sees the uncertainty underneath, the fear. 

“I mean it,” Aaron stresses, like he does every time. He watches Robert’s face clear, watches the love chase the want over his face. “I love you.”

They kiss, bathed in sunlight through the huge bay windows, a king size bed ready and waiting. Aaron backs Robert up, grips Robert’s belt to keep him upright when his knees hit wood. 

“Already?” Robert says, laughing into the kiss. 

“I wanted you since you put on my hoodie this morning,” Aaron confesses, biting at Robert’s jaw, his neck, throat. Robert groans into it, tilts his head back and lets Aaron bite and suck at his Adam’s apple. Aaron’s hands slide over Robert’s neck, down his back, then slip under Robert’s t-shirt. He’s warm from the sun, lean and beautiful, and Aaron can’t get enough. 

Robert’s fingers are tight on Aaron’s hips, digging painfully into bone, but it’s the best kind, the kind that spurs Aaron on. He presses a knee between Robert’s leg, pushes up with his thigh until Robert’s making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, grinding down against Aaron’s leg with wanton abandon. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, just as strangled as his moans. His hands clutch at Aaron’s shoulders, his mouth slack and sloppy in his kisses. Aaron loves taking Robert apart like this, touching and grinding and mouthing at him until Robert shudders and comes under his hands, relaxed and vulnerable. 

It’s a side only he sees. 

Aaron doesn’t want to take this slow, desperate as he’s been for Robert since they left that morning. He lets Robert grind a bit more, mouths at his neck, before popping the button on Robert’s jeans. They’re low enough that Aaron doesn’t have to shove them far before they’re slipping down Robert’s legs. Robert’s fingers twitch against Aaron’s neck, his breath panting short and quick in Aaron’s ear. 

Fingers slipping under the waistband of Robert’s ridiculous shorts, Aaron takes his cock in hand, fisting him roughly. Robert’s never one for gentle, preferring the hard and fast approach, and Aaron’s only too willing to give. Robert’s pants turn into breathy moans as Aaron jerks him off, thumb swiping over the head every upstroke. 

“Come on,” Aaron murmurs, nosing at Robert’s jaw, sucking the skin just below his ear.

Robert’s eyes are wide and blown as he tries to focus on Aaron’s face, his hips making soft little thrusts against Aaron’s hand. His gaze sharpens a little as Aaron slackens his grip. Blinking once, twice, Robert ducks in, bites at Aaron’s bottom lip and tugs him in, turning the kiss messy and wet. It’s rough, intoxicating, and it’s all Aaron can do to keep his hand sliding over Robert’s dick, to cup Robert’s balls in his hands, watch the way his eyes flutter shut, the groan that shudders through his throat. 

Aaron kisses him, gentle. “I love you.”

A strangled moan that’s half Aaron’s name, half garbled mess accompanies Robert’s orgasm as he comes over Aaron’s hand and his own boxers. Aaron holds him through it, helps him down to the bed. When Robert’s eyes clear, his hands loosen their grip on Aaron’s hips, Aaron brushes a hand over his cheek, thumbing at his bottom lip. 

“Alright?”

“Oh yeah,” Robert says, mouth twisting into a satisfied grin. “Definitely alright.”

Aaron snorts, free hand on the back of Robert’s hair. He curls into his fingers into thick blonde strands, rubbing gently. 

Robert looks up at him from under his lashes, eyes dark once more. 

“We should do something,” Aaron says, eyes flicking up to the bay windows, the spread of San Antonio’s beaches glistening in the sun. 

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, but when Aaron looks back, Robert’s got his fingers on Aaron’s trousers and he’s shoving them down, the bite of his smile almost too much. “As soon as I’ve returned the favour.”

Robert tugs him forward before Aaron can say anything, mouthing at Aaron’s clothed dick. 

Pleasure shoots up Aaron’s spine, and he abandons himself to Robert’s mouth and hands. 

 

 

They sun is low in the sky when Aaron rolls onto his back, stretching against the sheets. Robert leans over him, straddling his thighs. They’re both soft, sensitive, and any press of their lower bodies sends a shudder through Aaron. He winces, drags Robert down for a kiss. 

“Should probably experience the nightlife,” Robert says, sounding reluctant. His fingers are light as they brush over Aaron’s neck, thumb on his jaw. “Although I kinda like this night life a lot better.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Aaron tells him, laugh bubbling up through his chest. He knows what Robert means; Aaron wants to go out and actually enjoy himself, but Robert’s looking soft and open, lashes brushing his cheek every time he blinks. He’s alluring in the best ways, even more so when he leans in for a kiss, a wealth of memory and love shifting over his face. “Come on.”

Patting Robert’s hip, Aaron slides out from under him, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s sticky and gross, needs a shower, but the effort of standing up feels like too much. He feels the bed shift behind him, Robert’s presence looming as he wraps himself around Aaron’s back, mouth pressed to Aaron’s neck. 

“Robert,” Aaron chastises, tilting his head anyway, giving Robert better access. 

“Aaron,” Robert mocks, arms sliding around Aaron’s waist. He rests his chin on Aaron’s neck. “Great view, huh?”

The urge to agree dies on Aaron’s tongue. Ibiza looks amazing, especially as lights flicker on over the city, illuminating the already picturesque beach. Aaron turns his head, stares at the side of Robert’s face. Freckles dust his cheek and forehead, a red smudge high on his cheekbone, and the brilliant blue of his eyes. 

Robert turns. “What?”

“Nothing.” Aaron lifts a hand, holds Robert’s head in place and leans in to kiss him, just a hint too softly to start anything. “I love ya.”

Robert’s grin is worth the admission, brilliant and happy. “I love you too.”

The moment shifts, and Aaron smooths down the hair at the nape of Robert’s neck then pulls away. “Right, shower. Then you’re showing me the best places to get a drink round here.”

Robert pulls a face. “What makes you think I’d know?”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t Googled it.” Aaron stretches, smiling at the way Robert’s eyes dart over his body, looking hungry. “Oi, come _on_.”

“Alright, alright,” Robert grouses, shuffling to the edge of the bed. “I’m sure we’ll find somewhere.”

 

 

 

Apparently, when Robert says _I think it’s tacky_ what he means is _I’m gonna pretend it’s tacky and then lose my mind once we’re in a club._

Despite the fact that they have a beach right outside their hotel, Robert bundles Aaron into a taxi, paying a ridiculous amount of Euros for the fare, and tells the driver to take them to Ibiza Town. Aaron doesn’t know what he has in mind, but goes with it. Even in backseat of a taxi, where the driver’s constantly flicking his gaze in the rear view mirror to watch them, Robert’s affectionate. He leans into Aaron, their bodies pressed tight together despite the heat, and rests a hand on his thigh. 

“Where you taking me?” Aaron asks, watching the lights of the island flick by as they drive. 

“For a taster of the nightlife,” Robert says, shrugging, like it’s obvious. 

“There was plenty back near the hotel.” Aaron just wants a drink, he doesn’t care where they go to get it. “You’re not taking me to some ridiculous club are ya?”

Robert rolls his eyes, settles back, thighs spreading. His jeans are tight, not the soft hip-hugging jeans of before, and his legs fill them out in all the best ways. Aaron’s a step away from regretting leaving the hotel room, so turns his head to the road and streets outside; there are people heading out for their own night adventures, cars blur as they pass, and already the sound of music thumping into the car from whatever clubs they happen to speed past. 

“I know you,” Robert says, after a small stretch of silence. “Don’t worry.”

The taxi pulls up outside a club that’s way too pink for Aaron’s tastes, but the line’s not that long, and the music filtering out through the door isn’t terrible. 

“Come on,” Robert says, shoving a handful of Euro notes through the window of the taxi. “Let’s get you that drink.”

Aaron shoves his hands in his pockets, lets Robert lead the way to the end of the line. It’s moving pretty quickly, two bouncers instead of the one Aaron’s used to back in Leeds. “Looks - interesting.”

Robert’s nose wrinkles. “‘Swag’. Well that’s an appealing name.”

Aaron snorts, tugs Robert in tighter as two girls totter past, obviously bladdered already. “Why’d you pick it then?”

“Your kind of music, apparently,” Robert says, distracted, peering around the line to see how close they are to getting in. He’s antsy at the best of times, patience virtually non-existent, and rocks back on his heels like he’s going to push his way through the line if they don’t get there soon. 

Tugging him back in by his ridiculous blue sweater, Aaron pinches his side, grinning when Robert squirms. “Relax, we’ll be in there soon.”

Robert hesitates a fraction before throwing his arm over Aaron’s shoulders, brazen, and Aaron tries not to stiffen under his hold. He’s not adverse to Robert’s affection, the fact that he spent so long without it makes him want it all the more, but he’s also hyper aware that people don’t always take kindly to it. 

“Hey,” Robert says, eyes soft. “Nobody here’s gonna care. It’s Ibiza.”

Aaron turns his head, sees the rest of the line. Nobody’s looking at them, most of them irritated with the wait, some of them drunk, more still laughing and joking. There are guys and girls alike, arms around shoulders, couples making out; they’re not the only gay couple in the line either, it seems. 

Robert’s still looking at him, waiting, and when Aaron presses a hand to his chest, smiles. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says shifting to face the head of the line. They’re almost there, the bouncers ushering the couple in front of them into the club. “Finally.”

Once inside, the music thumps through Aaron’s body. Robert’s right; it’s his kind of music, not his favourite, but good enough that when Robert presses a drink into his hand with a triumphant grin, Aaron leans in and kisses him. 

“See?” Robert says, because he can’t resist even now. “Told ya it was your thing.”

“It’s the first day,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes. The beer is good, but Aaron eyes Robert’s glass and raises his eyebrows. “What the hell is that?”

“Dunno,” Robert says, looking unconcerned. He takes a sip of the drink, which is a purple monstrosity with an umbrella sticking out of it. Sugar on the rim of the glass too, Aaron notes. Not something he can really see Robert with. 

“That your scene now, is it?”

Robert tips the glass back, downs almost half of it. “I’m on my honeymoon, aren’t I? Gonna enjoy myself.”

Aaron takes a gulp of his beer, stares out over the dance floor. There are people grinding, going crazy, and Aaron appreciates the atmosphere, even if he’s not one for dancing himself. 

“Wanna dance?” Robert asks, as if he can tell what Aaron’s thinking, eyes and mouth making it obvious he’s teasing. 

“Funny,” Aaron tells him, deadpan, and leans against the table they’ve managed to commandeer for themselves. He can’t help but watch Robert, the way his sweater hugs the muscles of his arms, the stretch of his spine as he tips his drink back, downing the rest. He makes a face at the end, taste obviously a little sharp, and Aaron shakes his head. “Good?”

“Not sure,” Robert says, staring at his empty glass. “Mostly Vodka.”

“Thought you were more of a beer or whisky guy,” Aaron points out, absolutely no compunction to try anything with vodka.

“You know what they say,” Robert says, leaning in to brush a kiss against Aaron’s jaw. “When in Ibiza…”

“Uh,” Aaron grips Robert’s wrist as he tries to reach for Aaron’s wallet. “Pretty sure it’s Rome, and if you want another one of those, you’ll pay for it yaself.”

Robert makes a face that’s probably supposed to be a pout, but he’s smiling too much to make it work. “Not even if I pay you back?”

“There’d be no point in that, would there?” Aaron slides his fingers down to curl with Robert’s. He tugs Robert in closer, eyes darting down to Robert’s lips.

“I didn’t mean with money,” Robert says, smile taking on an edge. He leans in, lips brushing Aaron’s, moving softly across his cheek, over to his ear. It’s redundant, not like anyone can hear them with the music thumping through the club. “Something more personal.”

Robert’s free hand drops down to Aaron’s crotch, fingers cupping his dick. 

Aaron swallows thickly, bites at Robert’s neck to keep a groan at bay. He nips and licks at the bruised skin, then pulls away, releasing his hold on Robert. “Get your drink, Rob, and I’ll think about it.”

Rocking back on his heels, it takes Robert a moment to shake off the lust, then he’s grinning, lopsided and warm. “I’ll wear ya down.”

“Mmmhmm,” Aaron allows, non-committally, knowing full well he probably will. 

 

 

Four of those ridiculous cocktails later and Robert’s actually on the dancefloor. 

He’s not great with his dance moves, jerking and shuffling like he doesn’t have a smooth move in his body, and Aaron’s trying not to laugh. He’s recorded a couple of songs, taken enough pictures to last him a lifetime, but most of the time he just stares, heart bursting. 

Robert keeps looking over, loose and easy with his smiles, fingers wrapped tightly around his glass. He’s drinking something green this time, Aaron’s not entirely sure what, and circling his hips like an idiot. Aaron shoots a quick text to Adam ( _You’re missing a gem here, mate_ with a picture of Robert’s hip movements) and slips his phone back into his pocket. 

There’s a guy and girl just behind Robert, dancing with a little more finesse, but Aaron’s watching them with growing irritation. The guy has his eyes on Robert, looking hungry in a way that’s getting Aaron’s back up. He pushes off of the table, knowing his jealousy is irrational and that Robert’s not doing anything except having a good time, but Aaron can’t stop the vicious curl of anger in his stomach. 

His counselor would tell him to calm it, but fuck it, this is Aaron’s honeymoon, and if he doesn’t want to put up with jerks threatening to get handsy with Aaron’s husband, well. 

Before Aaron can say anything, can even really get close enough to lose his temper, Robert turns, a frown on his face. His free hand, the one with the ring on his fingers, waves in front of the guys face, and as Aaron approaches, he says, “I’m married.” 

The guy says something Aaron can’t hear, and Robert rocks back. 

“Uh, think my husband’ll rock my world better than you, mate.”

The look on Robert’s face when he turns and sees Aaron watching is too much, and Aaron wants to grab him, drag him back to their hotel and fuck him stupid. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, slurring a little as he tips forward. The guy behind Robert frowns, looks like he’s going to say something, but Aaron glares at him, throws enough _back off_ vibes at him that he turns away, back to the girl. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Aaron agrees, amused, and hauls Robert back to the table. One of Robert’s hands is on his chest, the other sliding down over Aaron’s stomach. He makes sure they have their wallets, phones and the key to the hotel and heads for the exit. “Come on, let’s get you back.”

Robert whines, but doesn’t put up much of a fight, just throws an arm over Aaron’s shoulder. “You gonna make it worth my while?”

Aaron digs his phone out of his pocket, ignores the succession of emojis Adam’s sent, and Googles an Ibiza taxi company. Robert buries his face in Aaron’s neck, hands roaming too far south to be decent, but Aaron’s not putting up a huge fight to stop him. Taxi called, he hangs up and snorts, drags Robert’s chin up. 

“Easy,” he says, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I love you,” Robert says, a sloppy grin on his face. “You’re really handsome.”

Aaron flushes, rolls his eyes. “Alright.”

“You are,” Robert stresses, eyes wide like he’s distressed Aaron doesn’t believe him. “You’re the most good looking guy I’ve ever met.”

There are so many ways Aaron could answer that, but before he can get any of them out, Robert leans over and throws up, missing Aaron’s trainers by mere inches.

“I love you,” Robert says, as soon as they step out of the taxi. Aaron shoves a handful of Euro notes at the driver, pulled from Robert’s wallet, and then props Robert up as they make their way into the hotel. Thankfully the lobby is mostly empty, and they make it to the lift, Robert leaning immediately into Aaron’s space. He smells like too much alcohol, but Aaron’s smelt rank lake water during a kiss, so he fists Robert’s t-shirt as Robert propels him backwards against the wall. 

Robert’s hands inevitably slip south, palming Aaron through his trousers, fingers in Aaron’s hair. Every touch is electric, lighting up Aaron’s body the same way they always do. Robert leans in, but Aaron ducks away. 

“You threw up,” Aaron says, pushing Robert’s face away from him, grinning. 

Robert pouts, eyes wide and ridiculous. “Aaron.”

“Later,” Aaron promises, the lift doors sliding open as they hit their floor. “If you’re still awake.”

Robert looks affronted, eyes narrowing. “I’m not that drunk.”

Aaron wisely doesn’t comment, slipping a hand into Robert’s back pocket for the key, and flushes hot at the look in his eyes. Robert stumbles through the door, Aaron hanging the _do not disturb_ sign on the door before letting it close. He’s more than sure Robert’s not going to appreciate being woken in the morning. 

When Aaron finally drifts into the bedroom, Robert’s starfished onto the bed, limbs spread. There’s a sound that’s suspiciously close to a snore, but Aaron can’t get mad. He just feels a rush of affection, unable to shake the image of Robert loose and happy, dancing like a fool. He tugs off Robert’s shoes and trousers, shifting him under the duvet. 

Robert’ll make it up to him, he’s sure. 

 

 

Aaron wakes slowly the next morning, feeling a wave of disorientation as he does so. There’s a familiar weight pressing him into the mattress, but the bed’s not his own. _Ibiza,_ he thinks, and grins into the pillow. The air around him smells minty and fresh, and he can’t smother his smile as he shifts, feels Robert respond above him. 

“Morning,” Robert says, sounding too chipper for someone so drunk the night before. He’s sliding lower, Aaron realises, hands feather light against his sides. He squirms, ticklish, something Robert well knows, but he can’t hold his glare for long. Robert pulls the duvet with him, eyes shining as he looks up at Aaron through his lashes. “Guess I owe you for last night, huh?”

Aaron just raises his eyebrows, placing his hands on the back of Robert’s head. 

Tongue flicking out to lick his lips, Robert stretches languidly, deliberately, and Aaron’s dick fills at the sight. Robert’s attractive, ridiculously so, and Aaron’s lucky. 

“Come on,” Aaron says, spreading his thighs. “Make it count - you almost threw up on my trainers.”

“No loss,” Robert says, fingers curling around the base of Aaron’s dick. Aaron’s denial dies, groan filtering out instead, and Robert grins, triumphant. 

“‘Least I didn’t buy ‘em new specially for this,” Aaron grits out. Robert tugs gently, leans down enough to blow air across the sensitive head of Aaron’s dick. A moan punches out of Aaron’s chest, his fingers curling into the sheets beneath them. Pleasure curls in his stomach, the sight of Robert, lips hovering tantalisingly close to Aaron’s dick almost too much to stand. 

Robert doesn’t answer, just slides forward, mouth all wet heat as his lips wrap around the head of Aaron’s cock. 

It’s slow, sensual, and all Aaron can do not to come then and there. Robert gives great head, knows the right places to touch, to lick, to graze to drive Aaron insane. The pleasure mounts steadily, tingles up his spine, and Aaron can’t stand it, wants to come, fingers tight in Robert’s hair. 

“Please,” he groans, hips thrusting up into Robert’s mouth. 

Robert hollows his cheeks, sucks Aaron deep. Aaron comes with a shout, too quick to let out a warning, but Robert takes it, keeps Aaron’s dick in his mouth, doesn’t even release it when Aaron protests, over-sensitive and soft. 

“Rob,” Aaron whines, heels digging into the bed either side of Robert’s body. “Stop.”

With a soothing brush of fingers against Aaron’s hip, Robert pulls back, fingers loosening their hold on Aaron’s dick. 

“Alright?” He asks, looking smug and self-satisfied. 

Aaron’s chest heaves, tries to get his breath back. When he can make his mouth work, he says, “C’mere.”

Robert does, hovers over Aaron, shoulders dipping as he leans in, lips pressing a kiss to Aaron’s chest. Aaron cradles his head, kisses Robert’s temple, his forehead and doesn’t protest when Robert lays down on his chest, dick still hard against his leg, but Robert in no obvious hurry to get off. 

“I can return the favour you know,” Aaron says, when he finds his voice. 

“I know,” Robert says, voice muffled in Aaron’s chest. “S’just stay here.”

Aaron strokes his fingers through Robert’s hair, massages his scalp gently in the way he knows Robert’s likes, looks out of the huge windows, the sun shining across the floor and nowhere near their bed. He feels light and happy, grateful to Robert for bringing them here.

Robert shifts, fingers splayed against Aaron’s hip. “Stop thinking so loud.”

“Sorry,” Aaron says, not meaning it. “Glad you brought me, that’s all.”

Shifting back, chin resting on Aaron’s chest, Robert grins, looks happy and content. “Might not be saying that when I throw up on you again.”

There’s the Robert that Aaron loves just as much; tactless and ridiculous. “Stop drinking those ridiculous cocktails then.”

Robert shrugs, leans in to press a kiss to Aaron’s jaw. “How about we shower and head to the beach?”

“How about I help with this first?” Aaron says, reaching down to curl his fingers around Robert’s dick. 

Robert, surprisingly, doesn’t protest. 

 

 

The beach is crowded, much more than he’s used to. 

“That’s because all the beaches at home are pebbles,” Robert says, wrinkling up his nose. “That or they’re wet and gross.”

Aaron laughs, rocks back on his heels while Robert tries to find a spot for them that’s free of people. “Never took you for a beach snob.”

“I’m not,” Robert protests, peering at Aaron over his sunglasses. “I’m just _saying_ , at least the sea is clear here.”

That Aaron can’t deny, so he tugs on Robert’s arm. “Come on.”

Robert follows sedately, looking ridiculously put-together. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and shed his trainers in favour of flip-flops. Robert Sugden in actual, honest-to-god flip-flops. When he pulled them out of his bag, bemoaning the fact that it’s, “too hot for shoes, Aaron, seriously,” Aaron thought it was a joke. 

“You bought trainers,” Aaron says, when Robert frowns down at his feet, flicking sand out from the flip-flops. “Why didn’t you just wear those?”

“They’re too expensive to get sand in,” Robert says. 

“You’re an idiot,” Aaron says, smiling, because it’s true. 

The beach isn’t that large, but Robert doesn’t seem overly concerned with where they go, only that they’re outside. Aaron slips a finger into one of Robert’s belt loops, pulls him in a little until they’re hip to hip. Robert gives him an open smile, eyes soft, and he wraps an arm around Aaron’s shoulders. The walk is sedate, and despite the crowds of people, they cut a swathe through the masses easily. 

It’s ridiculous, but sometimes Aaron wonders if people look at them and think _they’re on their honeymoon_. He feels like he’s wearing it on his sleeve, like it’s obvious.

There’s a kiosk near the end of the beach selling ice creams and Robert doesn’t even bother to ask; he grabs them both a cone and they eat them as they walk back down the beach.The ice creams soothe the heart somewhat, even with Robert’s arm back around Aaron’s shoulders. Robert gets messy with it, ice cream on his cheek, a smudge that Aaron leans in to lick off. 

Robert ducks away then grins, leans in for a kiss. “More here.”

Aaron rolls his eyes but licks into Robert’s mouth, deepens the kiss, keeping his cone out to the side. Robert’s fingers brush the hair at the nape of Aaron’s neck, sending small shivers down his spine. 

“What?” Robert says, when Aaron pulls back. 

“My Ice cream will melt.” Aaron gives Robert a winning smile, settles back to his ice cream, hand sliding into Robert’s back pocket. 

They get to the end of the beach, sand tapering off into a harbour, and Robert eyes the jet skis with hungry eyes. 

“Wanna go?”

Aaron can’t deny Robert anything, especially not the thought of jetskiing. “Dunno, might be a bit boring.”

Robert frowns for a half a second before shaking his head. “I don’t know why I keep falling for that,” he says, pinching Aaron’s side. “Always winding me up.”

“Stop making it so easy then,” Aaron tells him, heading towards the row of jet ski hire booths. He’s finally got Euros in his wallet, courtesy of Robert, and insists on paying. 

“You realise that’s my money anyway?” Robert leans against the booth, waits for Aaron to book. He tilts his head back, sunning his face as if he doesn’t have enough freckles already. 

Aaron just gives him a smile, fills in the necessary paperwork and listens to the guy tell them where and when their instructor will meet them. Aaron feels overdressed, the sun already high in the sky, and contemplates taking his jumper off. He’s brought the thinnest ones he could, but even they’re too much in the Ibiza sun. 

“Hey,” Robert says, pulling him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Wear what you like.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron says, turning his face into the kiss, pressing his own to Robert’s lips. 

Robert raises his eyebrows. “You’re pulling at your sleeves.” 

Aaron immediately drops his arms, but Robert draws his attention back to him, fingers soft on the back of Aaron’s neck. “Rob--”

“Aaron,” Robert presses, fingers light on Aaron’s jaw. “You spend plenty of time caring about other people. Whatever you want, alright?”

Aaron’s heard so many times that Robert’s selfish, that he only cares about himself, he knows he’s said it himself. He regrets that now, doesn’t know how anyone could look at this Robert, can hear what he says to Aaron in private and public both, and not believe he cares about Aaron unconditionally. 

“Jet ski first,” Aaron says, sidestepping the issue.

“Sure,” Robert says, taking a step back and shoving the last of his cone into his mouth. 

 

 

 

Aaron sheds his jumper before they climb onto the jet ski, Robert taking the seat behind him. They’re both wearing the mandatory life jackets, but Robert makes even that look good. When Aaron tells him so, unable to keep the jealousy out of his voice, Robert laughs. 

“Oh nice,” Aaron says, though he can’t keep up the irritation in the face of Robert’s happiness. 

“You honestly don’t know how hot you look,” Robert says, and not for the first time. Aaron takes his seat in front of him, startled when Robert leans in, breath close to Aaron’s ear. “I’d do you right now if the instructor wasn’t sat right there.”

“You still could,” Aaron replies, feeling brave. The thought of it, Robert’s hands on his body, jerking him off on a jet ski is just the right side of wrong. 

The instructor talks them through the basics, tells them he’s going to be nearby but not on top of them, and lets them have at it.

“Come on,” Robert says, arms slipping around Aaron’s waist. “Let’s go.”

The ride is going to be torture; it’s a lot of fun, spray kicking up into their faces, the thrill of hitting the throttle and just having at it overwhelming, but it’s the press of Robert’s fingers that drive Aaron crazy. He slides them up under Aaron’s t-shirt, mouth pressed to the back of his neck as they weave their way through the designated jet ski area. 

“Rob,” Aaron says, even though Robert can’t hear him over the roar of the engine. Deft fingers slip up the leg of Aaron’s shorts, testing him, and Aaron’s elbow jerks, the jet ski sliding sharply to the left. “Calm it down!”

He can practically _see_ Robert’s laugh, feels the dance of Robert’s fingers against his stomach. Aaron grits his teeth but decides to play just as unfair; he slides back a little in the seat, feels Robert’s crotch against his back and grins, guides the jet ski into a long stretch of water. He shifts again, slow and obvious, his arse curving into Robert’s crotch. 

Robert lets out a grunt that Aaron can’t help but hear; his fingers are twitching against Aaron’s stomach, so Aaron does it again, the same slow drag, until Robert’s rocking forward, panting over the sound of the jet ski. 

“Thought you were gonna do me,” Aaron yells back. 

Robert says nothing, slides his fingers past the waistband of Aaron’s shorts. Aaron hears the harsh intake of breath when Robert realises Aaron’s not wearing boxers, and he grips Aaron’s dick, a little tighter than Aaron’s expecting. 

Aaron jerks back, Robert’s dick trapped between their bodies, and then slides up, enough that Robert bites down on the back of Aaron’s neck, dick pulsing between them. Robert’s fingers tense then slide down the shaft of Aaron’s dick and he’s close, so close, that all Robert has to do is rub his thumb over the head of his cock for Aaron to come. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, voice wrecked.

Aaron tries to find his voice, turns to look behind him, at the smug smile on Robert’s face. The instructor yells at about the same time Aaron sees the jet ski heading their way and jerks hard on the steering, jet ski skidding out of the way - and out from under them.

 

 

“So that was fun,” Robert says, mouth quirking up into a smile. He’s probably sticky, Aaron knows he is, and they’re both soaked, looking a little worse for wear. Robert’s grinning, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, and eyes hungry. He dips down, kissing Aaron hard, draw him into making out. 

“That was idiotic,” Aaron says, but he’s grinning. He can’t remember the last time he did something so daring, his whole body thrumming; he feels _alive_ , and he knows Robert can see it, feels lighter for it. “Tell me we’re gonna do something more than have sex all the time.”

Robert shrugs, and Aaron can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. He can’t deny they have a lot to make up for, the weeks - _months_ \- spent apart a void Aaron’s trying to shove every memory into.

They head back for the hotel, Aaron testing the waters by sliding his hand into Robert’s. Robert gives him an assessing look, and just before Aaron goes to pull away, Robert clutches him tightly, grinning, face turned towards the ocean. 

It doesn’t take long for them to dry, only slightly damp as they make their way into the hotel. 

“Where we going tonight?” Aaron asks, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. 

Robert’s eyes dart up and down his body, expression obvious, and Aaron wants to protest that they had an orgasm just an hour or so ago. “Wherever you want.”

Aaron doesn’t really know, cares even less. “Depends how many cocktails you’re going to have.”

Robert grins, all teeth, and pulls Aaron in by the hip.

“Oi,” Aaron chastises. “If you think you can make me come again this soon, old man, I’ve got news for you.”

Offended, Robert looks a step away from proving Aaron wrong, so Aaron grips his the hair at the base of his neck and kisses him, isn’t surprised when Robert deepens it, bodies close. He doesn’t know how long they make out for, half-naked, baking in the setting sun, but he doesn’t care. When they finally part, Robert’s mouth looks swollen and red, Aaron’s probably the same, and Aaron taps his hip. 

“Somewhere close to home,” Aaron says, thumbing Robert’s bottom lip. “Just in case I wanna drag you back here.”

“Could always just do me in the club bathroom,” is Robert’s parting shot. 

 

 

 

Robert’s jeans are tight again, even more so this time. He’s leaning over the bar, trying to catch someone’s attention, while Aaron’s sitting in one of the booths. The lights are a mix of neon and they’re doing Aaron no favours, but they’re highlighting all of Robert’s best parts. When he turns to look back at Aaron, rolling his eyes at the lack of service, they’re a brilliant blue. Aaron’s breath feels punched from his chest, fingers curling against the table. 

He wonders if this is what seperation is like for everyone; that hunger, the need that’s all consuming, enveloping the both of them. Maybe it’s just that it’s their long overdue honeymoon, the fact that he’s _married_ to Robert, finally, after all this time. 

Aaron shakes off the stupor as Robert returns with a cocktail and then another, keeps watching as Robert tosses them back. 

He’s even more amused when Robert’s dancing shifts from suave(ish) to ridiculous to downright messy. There’s a folder on his phone dedicated to Robert’s club dancing, and he knows future blackmail material is piling up. 

Aaron’s watching him, eyes flashing dangerously when someone gets too close, but easy the rest of the time, amused when Robert slides from confident and smug into loose and pliant. He’s all smiles, almost swaying as he starts on his fifth cocktail. When he crashes into the table, laughing, Aaron tugs him in by the hip. “Wanna slow down?”

“No,” Robert says, flashing him a wide smile. “I’m _fine_.”

Raising his eyebrows, Aaron takes a sip of his own beer, knowing exactly what’s going to happen the following morning. 

Robert spends the whole night close to Aaron, arm around his neck, the two of them making out between Robert’s neon cocktails. He’s sloppy when he’s drunk, incredibly handsy, and he gets dirty. 

True to Robert’s promise in the hotel room, he drags Aaron into the toilets, presses him against the wall and drops to his knees. He gets points for effort, and Aaron’s orgasm hits quickly, probably fisting Robert’s hair too hard, but he doesn't protest. When they stumble out, Robert’s eyes are shining brightly, and Aaron bypasses their table completely, ignoring Robert’s protests about his cocktail.

“Come on,” Aaron says, tugging on Robert’s hand. 

Robert follows willingly, pressed right up against Aaron’s back all the way to the hotel, fingers dipping below Aaron’s waistband before the lift doors have even closed. They fuck in the hallway, don’t even make it to the bed, and even drunk, Robert lights up Aaron’s body all over, drives him crazy until he’s thrusting hard into Robert, and Robert’s biting down on the pillow to keep from screaming Aaron’s name.

 

 

The bed’s empty the next morning. 

Aaron rolls over, fingers spread over Robert’s pillow. The sun’s hot on his back and he’s reluctant to move. The lazy morning are the bests; prison is all early mornings and routine, but this feels better, the ability to rise when he wants to, the soft sheets and mattress cradling him. 

When Aaron finally sits up, he sees the note propped up on the dresser and frowns, convinced as he was that Robert’d be throwing up in their bathroom. Flicking open the note, a scrawled _by the pool_ in Robert’s usually so precise handwriting, Aaron snorts and grabs a pair of shorts and t-shirt. 

The receptionist greets him warmly and Aaron gives him an awkward wave, rubbing at his arm as he heads out to the pool, spotting Robert almost immediately. 

“When did we get a lilo?” 

Robert’s in the middle of the mostly-empty pool, lying on a hideous pink lilo, cradling a cup of water. He tips up his glasses, black smudges under his eyes, and he looks sick. “Why did you let me drink so much?”

Aaron laughs, slips down to dip his legs in the water. Robert guides the lilo over to him and Aaron tugs him the rest of the way in. Up close he looks even worse, and despite not wanting to have any sympathy for his husband, Aaron sighs, brushes a hand through his hair.

“Kill me,” Robert says, without waiting for Aaron to reply, pout in full effect. “It would be kinder than making me suffer.”

Aaron’s hand trails down Robert’s cheek, to his neck. Robert’s eyes flutter shut, breathing out slowly. “Stop drinking stupid cocktails and I wouldn’t have to.”

Robert hums noncommittally. 

“So,” Aaron says, after a lull. “The lilo?”

Robert just grins, weak and small, but a grin nonetheless. “We need one.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, but leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. “I married a child.”

They spend the rest of the morning in the hotel, Robert’s hangover spectacular, and Aaron forces him to bed, the two of them cuddling through lunch. He dozes in the hot sun, shaken awake by Robert, who gleefully tells him he’s set up a boat ride, obviously over the worst of his hangover.

 

 

“Are those mine?” Aaron asks, watching Robert walk from the bathroom to his suitcase by the wardrobe. 

Robert grins, looking unapologetic. Those are definitely Aaron’s boxers riding low on his hips. 

“Dammit, Robert, you’ve got your own suitcase.”

“Yours are comfy,” Robert protests, shrugging. He’s digging around in his bag looking for a shirt, but Aaron can’t stop watching the curve of his arse. 

“You’re always calling ‘em cheap tat anyway,” Aaron says, not even sure what his argument is anymore when Robert looks that good. 

Robert stands back up, eyes narrowing. “Aaron-”

Aaron closes the gap between them, hauls Robert in and latches onto his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin.

“Aaron,” Robert protests, titling his neck anyway. “We’re gonna be late for the speed boat ride.”

“Stop wearing my clothes then,” Aaron says, hitching one of Robert’s legs up around his thigh, grinning at the groan Robert lets out. If Robert’s gonna walk around wearing his clothes, looking more gorgeous than he has any right to, well Aaron’s gonna end up fucking him, right there on the balcony. 

He makes sure Robert keeps his eyes open, stares out at the island below them. He whispers that everyone’s been imagining him naked, wonders what they’d say if they could see him now. 

Robert’s painfully hard, dick bobbing against his stomach when Aaron shoves his boxers down Robert’s hips. Robert’s head rolls back on Aaron’s shoulder, throat exposed. Aaron’s fingers wrap around his neck, hold him in place while he jerks him off. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, over and over, name one long keen. 

“S’alright,” Aaron tells him, kissing just below his ear. “Come for me, Rob.”

Robert does, painting Aaron’s hand and his boxers. 

They don’t make the speed boat trip, but neither of them minds too much.

 

 

The next day is even hotter than the last. 

Aaron doesn’t bother with the sweater at all this time, only a brief hesitation before joining Robert for breakfast. They kiss over the table, and Robert’s fingers slide down Aaron’s arm, his smile encouraging. Aaron’s scars are obvious, but Robert keeps his hand there, rubbing gently at the skin.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Shopping,” Robert shrugs. He holds up a finger as Aaron opens his mouth. “Just one morning, Aaron, I swear. Then we can do whatever shit you wanna do. Until the weekend.”

Of course Aaron’s time is whittled down, not that he minds too much. “Fine, but only because Liv’s gonna expect something.”

Robert’s eyes light up, and Aaron’s heart hurts. He starts talking a mile a minute about the shit they’ll probably find that Liv will love, and Aaron takes it all in, knowing he’s smiling an idiot, but not able to stop himself. He knows it was a rocky beginning, but Robert’s been great with Liv, and he knows she cares about him, loves him even. They had each other when they didn’t have Aaron, and they’re unbelievably close, the Mill a warm home awaiting their return. Aaron’s lucky, ridiculously so, and he curls his fingers until they’re holding hands. Robert pauses only long enough to smile before starting off again, this time about Vic. 

 

 

The promenade is busy but not insufferable. Aaron holds Robert’s hand almost as soon as they leave the hotel, unashamed by it. Robert’s fingers lock with his, and Aaron runs his eyes over his face, neck, body. He’s tanned already, a crime when Aaron’s mostly burning, and there are far more freckles over his cheeks. He looks like some bronze sun god, which is just impossible, and he knows it. 

Robert’s smug smile is insufferable at the best of times, not that he doesn’t have reason, and its out in full force that morning. Robert keeps Aaron’s hand in his, though, tugs him down the promenade, turning his nose up at almost everything. 

Aaron’s not looking when his smile shifts from smug into happy, dropping Aaron’s hand as a shop front with a rack of sunglasses and postcards catch his attention. 

“We’ll be home before they get there,” Aaron says, nose wrinkling. 

“Not those,” Robert says, sliding through the doorway and ignoring a couple of kids as they run out. Inside the door there’s another rack, this one of tacky keyrings that endear themselves to him for whatever reason.

“Nobody’s gonna want them, Rob.”

“They’re bikinis,” Robert says, eyes shining. “You know your mum’ll love ‘em.”

Aaron’s not entirely sure she will, but he lets Robert look anyway, sticking his hands in his pocket and avoiding the harried mother racing out after her kids. He looks deeper in the shop, sees the usual beach fare, and beyond that the nik naks. There are two girls near the till, both of them running their eyes over Robert’s body, whispering and giggling together. Aaron rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, in the manner of someone who’s had to ask more than once. “What about this one?”

It’s a hideous polkadot bikini and Aaron laughs, rubbing at his forehead. “She’ll kill ya, but whatever.”

Robert grins and takes the keyring into the shop. Aaron looks back at the two girls, both of them staring back with raised eyebrows. He gives them a predatory grin, rubbing at his jaw, his wedding ring obvious. 

When Robert joins him again, looking far too pleased with himself, Aaron takes his hand, causing Robert’s smile to grow, and resists the urge to look one last time at the girls. 

 

 

“What’s this?” Robert says, holding up a shell.

“A shell,” Aaron replies, not for the first time. “Robert, seriously, what is your fascination with shells?”

“Nothing,” Robert mutters, kicking at stones on the sidewalk. He’s been scanning the sand looking for shells and Aaron’s let him at it, not knowing what’s going on in his head, but knowing Robert’ll tell him eventually. 

The two girls in the shop haven’t been the only ones looking. A couple of people have lingered on Aaron, looking a step away from approaching him, but Robert has the best luck in the world - always intervening at the right time - or he’s as observant as Aaron and heading off any chance of jealousy. 

Aaron would be tired of everyone staring at Robert, if it wasn’t for Robert himself. He’s ignored everyone but Aaron, busy buying souvenirs and gifts, loading them both down with bags. Despite the attention, Robert’s making it more and more obvious that he only has eyes for Aaron, checking in to make sure Aaron’s happy and having fun, and Aaron wants to hold him and never let go.

The further down the promenade they get, the further Robert’s sunglasses have been working their way up his head, shoving his hair back. It’s in disarray, something that should make him look ridiculous, but Aaron’s not overly surprised that it only looks hotter. He’s sun kissed and relaxed, soft and happy, and Aaron’s on his last nerve, a step away from dragging Robert back to the hotel.

He’s prevented from doing so by Robert, who, for someone so confident and gorgeous, has been ignoring all the looks and attention to pick up seashells.

“Robert,” Aaron says, when Robert’s tugged on his hand for the third time in as many seconds. “What are you looking for?”

“Your mum said there was this cool shell,” Robert says, looking at the floor, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Fossil thing you read in a book. Said you gave it to her, something about it being a symbol.”

Aaron doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, his heart breaking either way. “Rob,” he says, tugging Robert back to him, hands resting on his hips. “I don’t need a shell for that. This whole holiday proves whatever it is you need the shell to say.”

Robert doesn’t look happy, so Aaron curls his fingers into Robert’s t-shirt. 

“Hey,” he says. “Every time I look at you I know how lucky I am, how much you love me.”

Robert’s smile is more brilliant than Aaron’s ever seen. 

 

 

 

“Neon caves,” Aaron says, looking unimpressed. 

Robert woke him ridiculously early that morning, looking pleased with himself, talking about a cool trip he’d booked them on. Going by the Cirque de Soleil fiasco, Aaron has little faith, and is proven right when Robert tells him they’re going to see neon pools. 

“It’s a five hour trip,” Robert says, irritated, when they’re finally on the boat, cruising through the ocean. “If you’re gonna be mad at me the entire time-”

“I’m not mad,” Aaron says quietly, leaning against the railings. Despite the noise their fellow cave-goers are making, he likes the trip out, the soothing rock of the boat. The view really is incredible, and he can’t stay mad at Robert. It feels stupid to focus on the stupid things when he’s out and free, Robert standing right beside him, like he wanted for so long.

Robert, sensing the shift in his mood, leans next to him, his hair rustling in the wind. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, shifting closer, wanting to get out of his head for a bit. “So tell me more about these caves.”

“Wait and see,” Robert says, grinning. He tugs Aaron close, arm around his waist, and Aaron tilts his head back, lets the sea air rush over his face. 

When they reach the caves, they’re dark and smell funky, but Aaron lets it go, especially when they see the pools themselves. They’re a neon green, something, the guide tells them, to do with algae, but Aaron’s not really paying attention. He stands close to the pools, wonders what it would be like to dip in them. 

“S’dark in here,” Robert says, his hands on Aaron’s hips. Aaron’s waiting for the tug backwards and goes willingly, even with Robert’s breath hot on his neck. 

“So this was your plan,” Aaron says, amused, and pats Robert’s hands. “We’re not fucking in caves, Robert.”

Robert snorts, but lets Aaron go, especially when the guide motions for them to follow. “Think we’ve been discovered.”

 

“You have.” Aaron points out with a grin, joining the rest of the group through the caves. 

When they break out into the sunshine, Robert’s still handsy, fingers hooked into one of Aaron’s pockets as they head for the bus. It’s hot inside, all of the windows thrown open, and Aaron’s not surprised when Robert pulls him to the back. They spread out over the back seat, Robert’s hands sliding up Aaron’s thighs. Aaron rolls his head back, pressing a kiss to Robert’s chin. 

“Enough,” he says. “I think my dick is gonna fall off if we keep fucking like this.”

It’s thrilling, being so open in a bus full of people, and Aaron leans back, lets Robert’s arms wrap around him.

 

 

“Why do people keep trying to hit on me?” Robert says, sounding frustrated and angry, finally noticing what Aaron’s been trying to ignore. They’re in another club, the crowds a little thinner in this one, but enough that Aaron’s getting irritated. “Do they not see you standing right here?”

Aaron’s not really bothered that people don’t notice him as much as they do Robert. “Maybe they do,” he can’t help but point out, and relishes the flash of jealousy on Robert’s face. “They just respect people’s boundaries.”

“Well they can respect mine,” Robert snaps, arm around Aaron’s neck. It’s becoming a thing, Aaron’s noticed, throughout this holiday. Like Robert’s keeping him close, wants to make sure he’s there, and Aaron understand it. “I can go home with you, why would I want anyone else?”

It’s nothing he hasn’t said a hundred times, so many of those before Aaron started seeing his court-ordered counsellor, and he’s never really believed him. Now, though, seeing the frustration and anger on Robert’s face, having spent months talking through his issues, he knows Robert means it, stands by it. Not once, with so much flesh and beauty on display in Ibiza, has Robert’s gaze strayed. He’s shrugged people off, walked down the promenade like someone’s idea of a wet dream, and had eyes only for Aaron.

“I love ya,” Aaron says, heartfelt.

Robert’s drunk, hazy at the edges, but his soft smile is sharp enough. He nods, kisses Aaron hotly. “I know. I’ll prove it to ya tomorrow.”

“We’re already married,” Aaron tells him, their own joke. 

“No car crashes this time,” Robert promises, and rests his chin against Aaron’s cheek. “Taking you somewhere special.”

Aaron grins, flicking Robert’s glass. “Somewhere they have cocktails?”

Robert’s eyes are wide, a wealth of emotion swimming behind them. Aaron doesn’t know how to begin describing the look on his face. “No,” he says, slowly, fingers brushing Aaron’s jaw. “Just us.”

Breath hitching, Aaron answers Robert smile with one of his own. He can’t think of a better way to the end this honeymoon.

 

 

Robert forgoes actually getting too drunk, heading for the beach instead. 

Aaron’s pretty sure of his motives when Robert drags him to a secluded end, walled either side with caves, and presses him down into the sand. Aaron’s hyper aware of the people down the other end of the beach, the fact that they’re not really private. It doesn’t stop him being the one to press Robert down, to hold him there and kiss him, lick into his mouth and roll their hips together. 

The sand gets everywhere, Aaron’s painfully aware, but when he hauls Robert to his feet afterward, both of them looking well-fucked and knowing it’s obvious what they’ve been doing, they’re too giddy and happy to care. 

Robert insists on writing in the sand closer to civilization, grabbing a giant stick and looking like a child. Aaron sits close to him, poking at the sand with his toes. Robert moves quickly, long legs ridiculously tanned now, his whole body proof of their holiday, and Aaron’s just about ready to go for round two when he realises letting Robert loose with sand writing when he’s drunk was a bad idea. 

_Robert and Aaron fucked here_

“Robert, you can’t just-”

He stands up, hurriedly kicking at the word fucked before any of the parents currently strolling down the beach can see. 

“There are kids around,” he snaps.

Robert looks unapologetic, smug and ridiculous, and Aaron can’t stay mad, rolls his eyes and smacks Robert on the arse. 

“Get moving, idiot.”

“Yes dear,” Robert mocks, hand on Aaron’s waist. 

It’s an uncomfortable walk, Aaron more than aware of exactly why people shouldn’t have sex on the beach, and hopes they get home quickly.

“We’re never doing that again,” Aaron says, pressing Robert up against the wall of the lift. “We’ll have to shower separately, don’t think my dick can stand it.”

Aaron should have known Robert would prove him wrong.

 

 

The reason for the convertible becomes clear the next morning when Robert starts the trip up into the mountains. Or, what Aaron assumes are mountains. He’s not really sure when a hill becomes a mountain.

The day’s not as hot as it has been, a little overcast, but there’s still a stifling heat that has Aaron shedding his jumper and donning shorts. Robert’s stare that morning, and the subsequent fuck against the door before they had to check out, had told Aaron exactly how much Robert appreciated his body, as if he didn’t already know.

The music playing out of the radio is dance tunes, something Aaron’s actually had enough of. He thinks maybe leaving the clubbing behind for the rest of the holiday is gonna be a relief. 

“So how are you gonna distract me if we’re not going out clubbing tonight?” Aaron’s elbow is resting on the door, his fingers twisting in his hair. 

Robert shrugs, pretending to look mysterious and failing miserably. “I could give you guesses, but you’d probably get it right.”

“As if we haven’t done that enough,” Aaron laughs. He’s not really against doing more; his body might be aching by the time they get home, but he’s not quite ready to stop touching Robert just yet. “Not gonna want you to touch my dick for about ten days when we get home.”

Laughing, Robert flicks the indicator, turning left at the next roundabout. The road is quiet, hardly any cars, and the higher up they get, the more luxurious the buildings. Aaron’s not uncomfortable with the wealth Robert likes to spend, but he feels ridiculously out of place. Thankfully they didn’t spend enough time in their previous hotel for it to be an issue, but he’s not altogether sure about this one. 

“Rob, I’d have been happy staying put.”

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, giving Aaron a knowing look. “The point of this hotel is to do just that. It has to be somewhere you _want_ to stay for that long, and I promise ya, this is it.”

So far, Robert’s been on point with activities and hotel and club choices, so Aaron lets it go. He fiddles with the radio, finds a station that doesn’t make him want to shove in a handful of paracetamol and flicks through his phone. There’s a ton of messages from Adam, laughing at the photos Aaron keeps sending of Robert, some from Liv asking if Robert’s bringing her home a suitcase of presents (he has, actually, but Aaron’s not gonna tell her that), and the rest from his mum, checking in, sending him a load of winking emojis. He’s a little distressed, but knows Robert’s an inappropriate mess and has told his mum exactly what they’ve been getting up to. 

“How’s home?” Robert asks, a little uncertain. 

“The same,” Aaron says, reaching over to squeeze Robert’s thigh. “Have you been talking to me mum?”

“She asked after you,” Robert says, shrugging. “I wasn’t gonna ignore her.”

Aaron knows they talk, how close they are. They’ve become even closer since Aaron’s prison stint, and he can see the smile Robert’s trying to smother. His heart skips a beat. “Sure.”

Robert snorts, both of them knowing full well there’s probably more to it, but doesn’t say anything else. There’s a luxurious looking hotel at the top of the hill, a huge white monolith signalling the drive, and Robert takes it wide, palm sliding against the steering wheel. 

“Rob,” Aaron says, voice catching. “How much did this place cost?”

“I told you,” Robert replies, heading for the car park. There are hardly any cars, Aaron counts three, and wonders just how out of the way this place is. “I’d pay anything for time alone with you.”

It’s ridiculous and soppy, but Aaron doesn’t reply. He just stares at the side of Robert’s face as he shuts off the car, giving Aaron a bright smile. His expression stutters.

“What?”

“You’re amazin’,” Aaron tells him, meaning it more than he’s ever meant anything. “I swear, Rob, I wouldn’t have got this far without ya.”

“Shut up,” Robert says, swallowing thickly. 

“No.” Aaron shakes his head redundantly, pulling Robert close to him, an awkward hug across the seats. “I love ya.”

“I know,” Robert says, arms circling Aaron’s shoulders, face pressing to Aaron’s cheek. “I love you too.”

When they finally pull away, Aaron runs his eyes over the hotel, everything looking too flash and expensive, but he can’t deny seclusion would be nice after the bustle and activity of the rest of the Island. 

“Ready?” Robert asks. 

“Yeah,” Aaron says, meaning it. He opens the car door. “Show me where I’m spending the rest of my honeymoon.”

 

 

“ _Robert_ ,” Is all Aaron says when he throws open the door to their room. It’s huge, the same floor-to-ceiling windows they had in the other hotel room, but this one puts it to shame. It has a large living space, two large double beds - as if they’ll need more than one - and a balcony. 

Robert takes his hand, leads him through the room, looking as shocked as Aaron feels. 

“Haven’t you seen this?”

“In a slideshow,” Robert says, and pushes open the door to the balcony. Aaron’s eyes catch on the steam bath in the bedroom, something he knows they’re going to put to use, and follows Robert onto the balcony. 

“Woah.” Aaron can see two sunbeds and a mini-pool. “Robert, this place is amazing.”

Robert looks pleased, cheeks tinged pink. He gestures to the bathroom, which looks just as luxurious as the rest of the room. “So?”

“Think you’re right,” Aaron says softly, pulling Robert in. “Don’t think we’re gonna wanna leave here.”

 

 

They don’t; that first night, Aaron bites at Robert’s earlobe, tells him he wants to christen every inch of the room. 

Robert fucks him on the sofa, slow and careful, driving moans and groans out of Aaron. When he remembers how to make his body move, how to speak, Aaron tugs Robert over to the terrace, presses him down onto the huge loveseat outside and drops to his knees. Robert’s fingers tighten in his hair, tug gently to guide Aaron’s movements. He tips back, back arching as he comes down Aaron’s throat, a shout of Aaron’s name dying in his throat. 

They leave the bed till last, ordering room service and sharing it in front of the widescreen TV, something Spanish playing in the background that Aaron doesn’t understand and isn’t really watching anyway. 

Robert’s attentive, eyes dark, fingers brushing light and careful against Aaron’s ribs. Aaron’s fought his own reluctance to shed his t-shirt, to bear his scars to the island, but here, with Robert, it’s different. Robert’s seen every part of him, he’s seen every part of Robert and there’s nothing between them. No barrier, no reluctance, nothing but devotion and Aaron can’t stop the rush of love, the overwhelming feel of it. He clutches at Robert’s arms, rolls them over until Robert’s above him, around him, eyes wide as he looks at Aaron. 

“What’s wrong?” Robert asks, stroking his fingers over Aaron’s cheek. It’s intimate and close and isn’t helping the tightness in Aaron’s chest. 

“I never thought,” Aaron starts, his voice catching. “Never thought I’d get this, you know?”

Robert’s face does something complicated, and then softens. “I didn’t either. How’d I get lucky and find you, eh?”

There’s a lot of stuff between them, most of it bad, but Aaron wouldn’t give any of it up, not if it meant he couldn’t have this. “Dunno, but I’d say we’re both winners.”

Aaron’s smile turns into a laugh as Robert ducks down, and kisses him, their bodies sliding perfectly against each other. Aaron can’t get it up so quickly, but he’s content to lie there with Robert on the bed, the sound of the television washing over them, and the sun setting below the horizon outside of their window. 

 

 

Aaron wakes slowly, not wanting to move. 

Robert’s pillowed on Aaron’s stomach, legs half-hanging off the bed. Back home he’d be too cold, already shoving his feet under the covers and pissing Aaron off. Here the sun’s already up, and shining on the floor. Pretty soon it’s going to be blinding, neither of them bothering to close the curtains the night before. 

“Hey,” Aaron says, brushing a hand through Robert’s hair. “You awake?”

“No,” Robert moans, shuffling until his nose is pressed to Aaron’s hip. “Don’t wanna get up yet.”

Agreeing with that, Aaron keeps running a hand through Robert’s hair, eyes on the water outside. He’s not one for finding beauty in places, much preferring the kind of holiday where he can do stuff. This holiday has been different in lots of ways, but definitely this; he loves that they can lie in bed, cuddling when Robert’s not busy hugging his hip, and waking up slowly. 

Robert shifts again, stretching slightly. He rolls over onto his back, spread-eagled, and Aaron snorts. He’s naked, shameless as he grins up at the ceiling, and Aaron shuffles onto his knees, head hovering over Robert’s.

“Morning.” 

Robert’s nose wrinkles, the only indication that he cares Aaron’s not brushed his teeth, and then drags Aaron in for an upside down kiss. “Morning.”

Aaron’s fingers slide over Robert’s chest, thumbs catching on his nipples, and relishes the hitch in Robert’s breath. 

“Starting something already?” Robert asks, heat in his eyes. 

“Not sure,” Aaron says honestly. “Depends what you’ve got planned for the day.”

Robert says nothing, just reaches up, tweaks one of Aaron’s nipples in return. A jolt of pleasure shoots up Aaron’s spine and he breathes out quickly. 

Decision made, Aaron keeps moving, dipping his tongue along the planes of Robert’s stomach, around his bellybutton. Robert’s fingers are trailing down Aaron’s body, and he knows they’re on the same page, gets confirmation when Robert’s fingers brush the hair around Aaron’s dick. 

Robert’s dick is responding to Aaron’s ministrations, thick and curved against his belly. Aaron’s mouth waters, but before he can take it in his mouth, delicious wet heat envelopes his own cock and he groans, body shuddering. Robert’s skilled at blowjobs, making Aaron weak at the knees, but he intends to fight back. He leans in, tongue pressed to the base of Robert’s cock as he slides his lips over the head, down the shaft. 

Robert’s back arches, humming around Aaron’s cock and fuck, _fuck_ , this is gonna end too quickly. 

The pleasure is a heady feedback loop, Robert’s attention on his cock driving him crazy, while he’s busy licking and sucking at Robert, drawing his orgasm out. 

His knees are shaking and he’s half-afraid he’s gonna fall, make a mess of it, but Robert’s fingers clutch at his hips, painfully tight, holding him in place. Aaron leans on his elbows, abandons all pretense of holding Robert down, letting his hips fuck up into Aaron’s mouth. 

It’s a steady pressure, a pleasure that builds in his spine, up his body, feels like every part of him is singing Robert’s name, is desperate for it to end. 

Robert releases one of Aaron’s hips, finger sliding back behind Aaron’s balls, rubbing the skin there over and over. Aaron’s knee gives as his vision whites out, orgasm slamming into him. He tips forward, Robert’s dick hitting the back of his throat. Robert groans around Aaron’s dick, sending shivers through Aaron’s oversensitive cock, and he comes down Aaron’s throat. Aaron swallows, blinks heavily until his mind clears enough to pull away, roll onto his back. 

“Woah,” Robert says, mouth curving up into a smile. 

Aaron waves a hand weakly, eyes closed. When he can move, he’ll echo the sentiment. 

 

 

“I’d give you everything, you know that right?” Robert asks later that afternoon. 

They’ve pigged out on lunch, remnants scattered over the table on the balcony, and they’re stretched out in the Turkish bath. They’ve thrown open the windows, letting the mountain breeze soothe the heat already close to being too much. Robert’s pressed back against Aaron, an awkward position given their heights, but Aaron likes it. 

Robert’s head is pressed to his throat, hair tickling Aaron’s chin. His words startle Aaron out of a doze. 

“What?”

Robert moves to turn but Aaron holds him still, fingers splayed over his chest. “Aaron.”

Aaron shakes his head, knows Robert will feel the movement. “You know I only need you.”

There’s a small silence and Aaron’s afraid he’s done something wrong. Robert tangles their fingers together and he tilts his head so that he can kiss Aaron’s chin. “I told your mum once, you know.”

“We’re in a bath and you’re talking about my mum?” Aaron’s amused more than irritated. 

Robert rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m saying. I told her once that,” Robert pauses, body tense. “I told her you were - are - everything.”

Aaron’s breath catches, his chest painful. He wants to refute it, wants to ignore this and go back to dozing, but Robert’s fingers press to his jaw, forces him to look into Robert’s face. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, a wealth of love on his face. Aaron doesn’t know how he could ever have doubted this. “You’re everything.”

“Robert,” Aaron says, because he doesn’t know how to begin reciprocating that. He does, of course he does; Robert’s the be all and end all of everything, even with Liv, maybe _with_ Liv. 

Robert’s eyes soften, and the kiss he presses to Aaron’s lips is like so many others, soft and loving and everything Aaron needs. “Me, you and Liv, yeah? Always.”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, closing his eyes against the brush of Robert’s lips. “Always.”

 

 

The hot tub overlooks the cliffs, the view of Ibiza stunning from their vantage point. 

Robert’s fucking him, chest and hips pressed to Aaron’s back and arse. He’s got one hand on Aaron’s shoulder, the other keeping Aaron’s head nestled against his shoulder. Aaron can’t help but look down at the view, body straining against Robert’s hold, hips jerking upwards with every thrust. 

He’s letting out breathy little moans, the only sound between them, until Robert’s fingers stroke down Aaron’s throat. 

“You’re more beautiful to me,” he says, between thrusts, breath catching. “Than that could ever be to _anyone_.”

It’s too much. Aaron’s body feels electric, overwhelmed, and he shuts his eyes against the feeling. There’s so much pleasure, want, so much love he can’t stand it. He wants to curve away from what Robert’s telling him, but he’s held so tightly, loved so much. 

“Aaron,” Robert says, low in Aaron’s ear. “You deserve so much, you deserve to be happy.”

Robert’s said it before, so far back, but Aaron remembers it as vividly as he’s living this. He groans, and Robert slides the hand not around Aaron’s throat to circle his cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, more coordinated than he has a right to be. 

He’s everywhere, filling Aaron, smothering him, all he knows is _Robert, Robert, Robert_. “Robert.”

“S’alright,” Robert soothes, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s temple. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Aaron whines, thrusting up into Robert’s hand, neck straining against his fingers. 

“That’s it,” Robert says, hips rolling slow and torturous, dick sliding perfectly against Aaron’s prostate. “So proud you’re my husband.”

Aaron comes with a shout, hears it echo and collapses back against Robert’s shoulder, feeling light and happy. He buries his face in Robert’s neck and tries to remember how to breathe. 

 

 

The view is so much better in the dark. 

The lights of the hotel illuminate the mountain, send flickers of light cascading over the water, and Aaron leans against the balcony, stares down into the water. Robert’s showering, washing away the remnants of their after-dinner fun, and Aaron smiles when he thinks about it. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Robert’s rubbing his hair as he pads across the balcony. “There’s a cove down there. Private beach just for this hotel.”

Part of Aaron wants to stay here, to curl around Robert and never let him go. He’s been overwhelmed since they arrived here, and it’s only increased. He doesn’t know how to begin sorting his feelings. Robert’s been so forthcoming, so open, and Aaron doesn’t know how to to put it all in order. 

“Sure,” he agrees. 

Aaron kicks off his shoes as soon as they reach the beach, feeling the sand sink between his toes. It’s warm and soft, the only sound in the cove the rush of water as the tide flows. Robert takes his hand, rubs his thumb over Aaron’s fist. 

“I’ve had a great time,” Aaron tells him, slipping in close to Robert. He wants to say so much, doesn’t know how. 

“So did I,” Robert says, looking out over the ocean. He pulls Aaron in, eyes as dark as the sky.

Aaron kisses him, hopes he’s saying everything he can’t out loud. He doesn’t want this to end when they go home, wants to live every moment like they have here. He knows they’ll fight, they wouldn’t be them otherwise, but he wants this too, this softness and love. 

The sunset is brilliant, barely any poking over the horizon, and Robert’s arms wrap around his shoulders, hold him close. It’s soppy and Aaron pretends his heart doesn’t catch at the look on Robert’s face, the way his fingers brush against Aaron’s neck. 

Aaron can do soppy if it means it feels like this. 

This time they’re better prepared; Aaron pulls off his t-shirt before pressing Robert down on top of it, knows it won’t do much, but it’s enough. Robert’s eyes are huge, fingers feather-soft against Aaron’s skin as Aaron presses their bodies together, works Robert open with two, then three fingers. 

Robert responds to him so well, arching and gasping Aaron’s name, body shuddering with pleasure. The lap of the ocean washes over the sounds of their sex, drowns Robert’s gasps, Aaron’s grunts. They move together in practiced, easy movements, Robert’s thighs shaking around Aaron’s body. 

“Thank you,” Aaron says, into the curve of Robert’s jaw. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Robert’s back curves, a long drawn-out whine escaping his throat. Aaron runs his tongue up it, nips at Robert’s jaw. 

“I love you, Robert,” Aaron says. He does, loves the bones of Robert and the weight of his wedding band, the thought of _forever_ only thrills him. “You’re everything.”

Robert comes, fingers raking up Aaron’s back, hard enough to scratch. Aaron’s orgasm is still building, heat pooling in his stomach, and Robert’s making soft noises, his cock still trapped between their bodies, oversensitive. It’s his broken, “Aaron,” the whine of _too much_ that has Aaron coming, hips snapping up against Robert’s as he buries his face in the crook of Robert’s neck. 

Deft fingers run through his hair, soothing as Aaron comes down from his orgasm. They lie there, soft and sated, and Aaron thinks it’s probably the best sex they’ve had since coming to Ibiza. 

“I love you,” Robert says, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s temple. 

“Always,” Aaron promises.

**Author's Note:**

> Some things that didn’t make it into this but actually happened;
> 
>   * Aaron has enough stories from the Ibiza trip to blackmail Robert for years, including but not limited to, “Do it or I’ll tell Vic about the time you got on a table in a nightclub and started trying to do the Single Ladies dance, and then remembered you were married and fell off the table trying to get to me,” and “Don’t make me tell mum about the time you tried to trade me for just one more pink drink with an umbrealla.” 
>   * Aaron has a secret folder on his phone which is literally just photos of drunk Robert Robert’s phone just loved up selfies and pictures of Aaron he took without him noticing 
>   * Both of them astounded by how happy they look 
>   * Robert feelings happy and content because he made it? He’s in Ibiza with Aaron in his arms and the rest of their lives ahead and it’s not daunting, he actually wants it 
>   * Robert realises he’s not scared about having a husband, that for years he went on fancy holidays with Chrissie White on his arm and he’r terrifyingly comfortable walking hand in hand with Aaron the beach, or snogging him in a night club. 
>   * Robert’s life is nothing he expected to be, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. 
>   * They love the good and the bad of each other and that’s everything 
>   * Delays at the airport making Robert cranky, bringing the “old” Robert back, with the attitude and the snark, and 
>   * Aaron realises he loves this Robert as much as he loves the soft, drunk Robert 
>   * The journey home is horrendous; Robert fidgets in the airport and doesn’t shut up. “I’ll literally pay you to shut up.” “In sexual favours, right?” “…. If that’s what it takes.” Almost as soon as they sit down, Aaron makes sure to take hold of his hand, but Robert falls asleep on his shoulder. (Aaron pays him back as soon as they get home) 
> 

> 
> thank you for reading :>
> 
> join me at [tumblr if you want](http://sapphicsugden.tumblr.com) :))))


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